


The Doctor's Notes

by Spoon888



Series: The Doctor Is In [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coitus Interruptus, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Implied Mech Preg, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25250305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: A collection of requested 'behind the scenes' moments from The Doctor Is In.
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream (Transformers)
Series: The Doctor Is In [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1829305
Comments: 39
Kudos: 243





	The Doctor's Notes

**Author's Note:**

> Before Ratchet's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad morning interrupted Megatron and Starscream's rather pleasant one. 

Megatron always slept in, and sometimes Starscream wondered if he wasn't around to dutifully poke the larger mech into consciousness like the gorgeous substitute for an alarm clock he was expected to be, would the great lump wake at all? 

Whether it was age, laziness, or the starvation rations their recent bad luck had saddled them with that had brought on Megatron's sustained lethargy, Starscream had come to find it more beneficial in the long term to simply allow him his lazy mornings to catch up on much needed rest. The alternative was Megatron snoring in the throne room, or during a war council, or -on one memorable occasion Starscream would much rather they both forgot- on _top of his lover._

There were benefits to the hour or so undisturbed peace it allowed Starscream anyway. He was free to peruse the confidential data-pads Megatron carelessly left scattered across his desk and to snoop through his personal affects. They shared the room most nights but it was still _Megatron's quarters,_ and everyone had their secrets. Starscream simply preferred having a heads up on any of Megatron's. 

If the older mech had anything to hide -and he _would_ \- it would be squirrelled away in here, behind the wall panels or under the decking, in the sort of secret compartments mecha hid away high grade and contraband... 

"Perhaps one cycle I'll wake to find you curled around me in the berth, and not snooping about our room," a weary voice called just as Starscream got down onto his knees to poke about in an open vent. 

Starscream thunked his head against the edge of the opening when the voice caused him to flinch back in surprise. He rose cursing and rubbing the back of his helm. 

" _Your_ room," he corrected. Because if it was truly shared he would be allowed more of his things inside. His experiments, for example, were forbidden from crossing the threshold. 

" _Our_ room," Megatron was sat up in the berth, glaring at him rubbing his head. "Don't tell me you've damaged yourself _again_."

"I'm made of tougher alloys than _that_ ," Starscream snapped heatedly, fingering the back of his helm to check for dents. He was in the clear, but it didn't stop Megatron from manhandling his wings to turn him around and see for himself as soon as he was back within grabbing distance. 

It was far too early in the cycle to be enduring _coddling_. 

"First the cockpit, then this-" Megatron was muttering. 

Starscream batted his hands away and climbed into his lap, being mindful of the damaged cockpit in question. Most of the sensors lining the canopy had deactivated themselves, but the area around it still felt quite tender. "Yes, and both can be seen as your fault. Why is it that whenever I take damage it can be traced back to you?" 

Megatron's glare hardened. He poked Starscream in the lower canopy in revenge. It was a light jab, but it loosened a piece of glass from the mess of duct-tape and sent it tinkling down into the depths of Starscream's cockpit, leaving a little hole. Starscream felt an irritating draft come through it. Megatron had the good grace to look guilty. 

"Have you refuelled?" he quickly changed the subject. 

Starscream had last night. But it had only been a half-ration. His energy levels were at seventy nine percent, within acceptable parameters. But his reserve fuel tanks had dipped below thirty. It was enough, and he could keep his charge up for the remainder of the cycle if he took it easy. But his moment of silent contemplation made Megatron's processor up for him. 

"You won't have enough for the week," Starscream warned when Megatron slipped out from under him and went to his private energon dispenser, a smaller version of what stored energon in the mess. The line showing the fuel quantity on Megatron's was abysmal, but he filled another half cube for Starscream anyway. 

"You'll be useless if you cut back anymore," Starscream muttered, bringing the cube to his lips. 

"When Soundwave returns we'll begin assessing targets for a raid, and bring in reinforcements to _ensure_ it's success if necessary," Megatron sat down heavily, shaking the berth. "I can refuel properly then. But if you're to be sparked-"

Starscream's tank swooped and robbed him of his appetite. He stared down at the cube. "And if this is all for nothing-?"

"Prattling on about it isn't going to help," Megatron touched a finger to the base of the cube and urged him to drink up. Starscream did, throwing it back and forcing himself to swallow. It sat heavily in his belly, the warm, full feeling of a topped up tank less a comfort than it should have been. 

"I don't see why you're boosting my rations with _your_ fuel," Starscream pointed out, handing the empty cube back and letting Megatron set it aside. 

He scooted back to lean against the berth's headrest as Megatron began to climb over him, letting his thighs lull open so broad hips could slot between them. "Motormaster seems to have far too much energy, and those sawed off monsters Soundwave left here unattended are always running about like they run on perpetual motion. If _anyone's_ fuel should be cut-"

Megatron did not respond to his logical arguments. He braced a hand either side of Starscream's helm and leant in to kiss him, silencing him with a firm, sure press of lips. 

Starscream sank into the covers with a deep sigh, his legs folding, pedes leaving the berth and lifting into the air so his knees squeezed against Megatron's sides. Megatron shifted so he was lying on top of him and reached back to hitch one of those legs up over his hip. Starscream felt an ache of pressure as weight settled across his broken cockpit, the duct-tape holding the glass together struggling to take the strain. 

Megatron's hand closed around his wing tip and Starscream's mind went blank of sensible things like taking care of his damaged cockpit and how loud he was being when he moaned his encouragement. Their kiss grew messy and clumsy, his tongue chasing after Megatron's, oral lubricant mixing lewdly. He reached down to touch himself, playing with his node. He rubbed his thruster against the small of his leader's back to pull him closer, as Megatron tugged and pinched the sensitive parts of his wings. 

Something stiff poked him in the hip and he turned out of Megatron's kiss to pant for much needed breath, abandoning his own pleasure to reach with lubricant-damp fingers for Megatron's spike.

The weight and heat of it in his hand brought something to life in Starscream's lower tanks, something tight and coiling. He had to push Megatron off so he had to room to sit up and lean over, dropping his head to Megatron's lap to take the pulsing, charge-filled length into his mouth. 

Megatron cupped the back of his helm and let him kiss and lick at the sensor rich tip. He sat back on his heels to watch, holding the base of his long spike steady so Starscream could mouth at it hands free.

He ran his tongue along the ridged underside and closed his mouth around it. His lips pulled and caught at the flared head as he bobbed his helm at a worshipfully slow pace. He focused on the tip, laving his tongue over the opening until he tasted the sharp charge of transfluid. He swirled it around his mouth, savouring it before he swallowed. 

Megatron hummed approvingly but wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and gave him a little tug, drawing him off his spike before he overloaded into his mouth. Starscream dragged his lips across the length one last time, letting the tip fall from between his swollen lips with a little _pop_. 

The glistening spike hung perpendicular from Megatron's pelvic plate right in front of him, swaying and twitching with charge. Starscream's mouth filled with oral lubricant as the urge to take it back into his mouth resurfaced.

But Megatron pushed him over to lay on his back again, knowing from experience that if he didn't direct, Starscream would lead them into lustful distraction after distraction. 

He pushed Starscream's legs up and back so his thighs were pressed together and resting against his chest, keeping them in place with a big hand locked around his slender ankles. 

"Here," he cupped Starscream's chin and rubbed his thumb across his damp bottom lip before pushing it inside, pressing down on his tongue. "Suck on that." 

Starscream did, gladly, suckling lewdly on Megatron's digit as he was arranged to his leader's liking, dragged down the berth and pushed into position so his aft rested against solid hip armour. He wrapped his arms around the backs of his knees and hugged his legs to his chest to keep them there. Satisfied he could hold the position, Megatron released his ankles. 

The larger mech leant over Starscream's so his spike rubbed against the folds of the valve nestled neatly between his thighs. Megatron jabbed his thumb deeper, pushing down on Starscream's tongue and making him moan. 

Megatron's nudged between the moistened petals of mesh and breached the rim of his valve. Starscream bit down on Megatron's thumb till he tasted energon.

Spike slick with oral lubricants, Megatron sank smoothly into him, parting mesh, silicone, and callipers with one steady press. Starscream's internals coiled tighter and his toe pedes curled. He whined around Megatron's thumb, shuddering when the intrusion retreated half-way and plunged back into him, nailing sensors set deep in his valve. 

Megatron wasted no time before setting a pace. Good. Starscream didn't want it have to interrupt the fun to remind Megatron that he was already late for flight drills. 

Pleasure built and built rapidly with Megatron's expert pacing, his rollings thrusts driving Starscream steadily towards his overload. Starscream tightened his legs against his chest and shuttered his optics as the room filled with the lewd, slick sounds of lubricated metal sliding through soft silicone. 

Megatron pulled his thumb free of his mouth, ignoring the bitten plating leaking energon. He grasped either side of Starscream's aft in each hand, squeezing it with relish. Starscream panted raggedly in encouragement, knowing he was so close, his pleasure cresting.

He cried Megatron's name, again, and again, vocaliser pitching up as everything tightened in anticipation of a big release-

-when the door opened to the corridor outside with a sharp whoosh. 

There was a panicked noise, followed by clattering armour and running footsteps. Megatron twisted to see what had happened and lost balance, thrusting forwards blindly at an odd angle and jabbing Starscream painfully, robbing him of his imminent overload. Megatron spat a curse, and when Starscream looked past his own legs, he saw why. 

A rather surprised Autobot medic was standing in their doorway, his hand hovering over the access panel like the last thing had had expected to have come of pressing the 'entry' button was for the _door to open._

Starscream didn't even want to know. He kicked Megatron off, rolled out of the berth, and stormed into the wash rack before the last of his lingering charge faded away. 

Let Megatron have all the fun murdering the Autobot. What did he care? _He_ had an appointment with Megatron's shower head.


End file.
